


ever since we met (you're my flower)

by fools_mp3



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: (high school is very very brief), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, god is this a ride, lapslock, timeskip fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 06:06:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14710526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fools_mp3/pseuds/fools_mp3
Summary: minhyun and seongwoo.how they start. how they fall apart. how they come together. and everything in between.(minhyun and seongwoo — through the years. a tale of birthday cards, burnt t-shirts, missed timelines, and seeing the person who’s been there all along.)





	ever since we met (you're my flower)

**Author's Note:**

> before we start:
> 
> 1) want to _clearly_ highlight that there's a side ongwoon/minhwan, before anyone gets mad at me! BUT, with that being said, i write their relationships very vaguely, on purpose. no malice, no three-way four-way relationships or whatever. i write them a certain way on purpose, because this is a timeskip fic, and i want to highlight that, love doesn't always have to be pining and being unhappy and lonely for fifteen years, etc.
> 
> 2) the arrows indicate timeskips, mainly forward, but there is (1) one, backwards timeskip, indicated by an arrow. i hope it's pretty easy to follow along!
> 
> 3) it's unbeta'd, and i edited as much as i can, but i'm honestly really tired and i just want to post already so, i'm sorry sorry sorry if there are mistakes still! i'm sorry :(
> 
> 4). songs to listen to during this fic: lost in japan -- shawn mendes, truth untold -- bts
> 
> enjoy!

 

* * *

 

⬴

_(we’ve known each other for forever. it’s…_

 

_“it’s?”_

 

_it’s weird.)_

 

“it’s my birthday everyone!” seongwoo exclaims loudly, over the chattering of his eighteen something classmates.

 

nobody listens.

 

minji keeps pulling on hanwoo’s hair. yeeun continues to tell jiwoo about how she accidentally pulled her doll’s hair off. minjae and kihyun continue to play with their legos.

 

seongwoo frowns. “ _you guys,”_ he stomps his tiny foot as if that will do anything. “i said it’s my birthday! i’m _six_ today.”

 

nobody bats an eye.

 

he’s about to climb on top of his chair (mr. lee said that wasn’t allowed, but _everyone_ has to know it’s his birthday, so he’s sure mr. lee will make an exception), and yell at everyone to wish him a happy birthday _right_ _at that moment,_ when he feels a tug on his sleeve.

 

he turns, and he sees minhyun looking at him with wide eyes shyly. minhyun is always quiet in class, always sitting in the back and diligently doing his homework. he never really talked to anyone except his friend hyunbin, and because of that seongwoo didn’t like him very much. he liked loud people who would play hopscotch with him.

 

“yes, minhyun?” seongwoo says, exuding his _big important boss person_ voice that he likes to use.

 

minhyun blinks at him once, and seongwoo almost snaps at him to hurry up and answer, _he’s busy and has a big announcement to make,_ before minhyun slowly pulls out a large card from behind his back and hands it to seongwoo.

 

it’s big, almost bigger than their tiny bodies, a large poster folded in half. a drawing of seongwoo is at the front, a crown on his head, smiling. when seongwoo opens it, he sees little doodles of things he likes. things he’s mentioned in front of the whole class that he likes. like his dog, brownie, who’s a golden retriever and isn’t really the color of a brownie. like his favorite TV show, _teen titans_. like how he has an older sister who’s a big kid -- a whole _6th grader._ a guitar. because he told his friends in line at lunch once that he wants to play something called the _guitar_ , _but it’s really big and I have to wait until i’m a big boy._

 

“happy birthday, seongwoo,” minhyun says, smiling. “i made this for you.”

 

seongwoo doesn’t really know why minhyun made him this birthday card. he thinks he’s only talked to minhyun once -- when minhyun’s _curious_ _george_ backpack was blocking the way and seongwoo had told him to move it.

 

he’s about to smile and thank minhyun when he notices something written on the card.

 

he wrinkles his nose.

 

“my last name is _ong,_ not _hong,”_ seongwoo frowns. “how could you?!”

 

minhyun’s eyes widen at the revelation. he flushes in embarrassment before he, too, frowns.

 

“well if you don’t want it anymore, then give it back,” minhyun says defensively, holding his hand out.

 

seongwoo has never seen minhyun speak that loud, or even speak that much in general, before.

 

he sniffs. “i never said I didn’t want to keep it still.”

 

and that was that.

 

 

⤀

 

_(we aren’t each each other’s types. we’re. we’re best friends, yeah. but we’re different people. and we have different types.)_

 

 

“so,” seongwoo says breathing out. “you taking anyone to minhyuk’s party?”

 

minhyun looks up from the sandwich he’s making in seongwoo’s kitchen, in the midst of placing the piece of tomato perfectly in the center of his sandwich.

 

he knows the place like the back of his hand, like his own kitchen, and no one in seongwoo’s family even flinches anymore seeing minhyun do domestic things in their own house. 

 

seongwoo sits at the dining table, hands flying on his nintendo as he gets mario to save princess peach while bringing up the touchy subject. 

 

“why?” he says slowly.

 

“just,” seongwoo shrugs, trying to act nonchalant. “i think nara wants to go with you.”

 

“what?” minhyun pauses.

 

_nara?_ it takes him a minute to process who that even is.

 

then realisation settles on his face and his faces squeezes into annoyance. “ _ong seongwoo,_ are you setting me up? why are you trying to set me up?”

 

“i’m not setting you up! i’m not setting you up,” he says quickly, alarm at how he’s gotten caught evident in his eyes. seongwoo waves his arm quickly to form an X.

 

minhyun raises his eyebrows. narrows his eyes.

 

“okay, so _maybe,_ i’m setting you up.”

 

“i mean, _obviously.”_

 

“ _technically_ , i’m setting myself up.”

 

“and that’s any better?”

 

seongwoo sighs and closes his eyes. he wasn’t ever one to lie to minhyun’s face. minhyun could read him like an open book.

 

“sooji agreed to go to the party with me if i get _you_ to go to the party with nara.”

 

“seongwoo, i cant _belie-”_

 

“don’t kill me---please!” seongwoo says, covering his eyes quickly with his hands as minhyun quickly stomped over to the other side of the kitchen and near seongwoo. 

 

the nintendo clatters onto the table.

 

when the blow never comes, he takes a moment to peek out from between his eyes only to see minhyun rolling his eyes, arms crossed.

 

“you are so annoying,” minhyun states.

 

seongwoo grins. “i could be annoying _and_ taking sooji on a date.”

 

“a date?” minhyun wrinkles his nose. “you’re considering taking her to the party as a date?”

 

“well, why not? they’re fun and i can dance with her,” seongwoo wiggles his eyebrows. “minhyuk also found a bunch of his dad’s beer under the kitchen sink.”

 

“but, you can’t even get to know them?” minhyun poses it more of as a confused statement as he takes his sandwich plate and plops on a seat right across from seongwoo. 

 

seongwoo reaches over and takes a bite of the other half of minhyun’s sandwich and minhyun whines in annoyance.

 

“i don’t need to get to know sooji,” he explains, mouth full. “i already know her. she’s smart, popular as miss student council president, and fun when she wants to be. what’s that hair thing called in america? where it’s like business and party all in one? business in the back, party in the front? mollet?”

 

“mullet, dummy,” minhyun responds. “and i think it’s party in the back.”

 

seongwoo shrugs. 

 

“either way, she’s fun _and_ smart. i already know her. plus she’s hot as fuck,” he grins. 

 

minhyun scrunches his face up in disgust. “and nara? why does she want to go with _me?”_

 

seongwoo tilts his head. “what do you mean?”

 

“like, i’ve never talked to her before. why is she interested in me?”

 

seongwoo thinks he hears a hint of insecurity in his voice. 

 

“bro,” seongwoo laughs at his obliviousness. “you’re a catch!”

 

minhyun’s ears start to turn red and he ducks his head quickly to cover it up.

 

“shut up,” he says, mouth muffled as he stuffs more bread in his mouth. 

 

“it’s true, _man._ ever since you fucking glo’d the fuck up last summer and your shoulders grew ten times -- everyone’s had like, a gigantic crush on you,” seongwoo states. “especially when you sang during the talent show, too. kind, voice of an angel, and _hot?_! kinda stole all my fans from class 2-A from me, bro. i was _kinda_ offended, not gonna lie.”

 

minhyun chokes when seongwoo calls him hot. “i can’t believe you.”

 

“and anyway,” seongwoo continues. “nara’s a really cool girl. she likes music too. did you know she can play the piano, guitar, and can also sing? pretty good, i think, from what i’ve heard. and she likes indie music too! and she’s nice.”

 

minhyun perks up. “she’s into music?”

 

seongwoo nods, excitedly, picking up his nintendo again after noticing the _GAME_ _OVER_ on his screen. 

 

“yeah. bro, i would _never_ set you up with someone you wouldn’t get along with,” seongwoo looks up and feigns hurt. “i’m hurt you would even think that.”

 

minhyun throws a bread crust at him. “shut up, you totally would?”

 

seongwoo picks up the fallen crust from the table and swiftly stuffs it into his mouth, his eyes not even wavering from his nintendo screen. “shut up, i totally _wouldn’t_?”

 

“ugh, do you want me to go with her or not?”

 

seongwoo pauses the game and grins. he looks up at minhyun, and minhyun in returns rolls his eyes at seongwoo’s excitement. 

 

“so you’ll go with nara?”

 

“if you lied to me about her liking music i’ll crush you.”

 

“crush me? with what? your big ass head?”

 

“ _okay_ , out of pocket--can we just remember that it’s _you_ asking for a favor here? lik-”

 

“okay, okay i’m sorry! i’m kidding!” seongwoo giggles. 

 

 

 

 

a week later, on a friday night, finds seongwoo scanning the dance floor for a particular person. sooji’s gone to play beer pong with god knows who, and surprisingly he’s one hundred percent fine with it.

 

(in fact, he kind of encouraged her to ditch him.)

 

sooji’s fun, just like he had expected, an aura of carelessness and freedom around her that he admired. but right now there was someone else he’d rather be spending time with. 

 

when he surveys the dance floor and finds it empty of the person he wants to see, he sighs and decides that maybe outside by the pool was the way to go. he sidesteps multiple people and smiles and greets others as he walks by them. as he continues to walk he consistently gets invited to dance, to play, to drink. he declines them all, constantly on the look out for a certain face.

 

when he steps outside to the cold breeze, he finds the backyard a lot less full than inside, and he breathes in relief when he feels like he’s no longer being suffocated. the backyard is still filled with people nonetheless, but it’s a lot more mellow and chill, no dancing bodies grinding on one another, no screams and shouts of games being won. if’s quiet as he sees people in separate groups talking quietly, nursing drinks in their hands. his eyes scan the perimeter when he sees him.

 

the familiar broad shoulders, the familiar back, the familiar button down and jeans he’s come to know. he takes a step forward, smiling already at the thought of talking to minhyun.

 

it’s not until minhyun shifts his feet and leans towards the left does he get a better view. minhyun’s laughing, eyes bright, head tilted forward towards nara as she continues to talk animatedly. he’s staring at her, that kind of stare, seongwoo can’t quite explain, the _minhyun_ stare that he does where he doesn’t look at anyone but you. the stare where he makes you feel special, that you’re the only one who matters in the world. the stare that seongwoo knows like the back of his hand, he’s been on the receiving end of that stare more times he can count.

 

he stops. can’t help but just stare.

 

nara shivers in the midst of her speech, and seongwoo watches as minhyun’s face contorts into worry before he’s removing the button down he’s wearing to give to her. as her eyes widen and she thanks him (minhyun returns it with a warm smile) and she continues on with whatever she’s saying, seongwoo can’t help but feel a dull ache in his chest. the ache where it continues to tighten and tighten, little by little as it weighs heavy on his heart.

 

he turns around and goes back inside. 

 

 

 

⤀

 

seongwoo and minhyun graduate high school, and instead of going to the class-wide party after they eat lunch with their parents, they decide to take the trek to haeundae instead.

 

they decide to keep their graduation gowns and caps on, because they’re _high school graduates, adults, now,_ and everyone in busan should know.

 

they drank a bit (seongwoo — a lot, minhyun — a sip), and they’re stumbling over themselves, giggling, as they both clutch their dress shoes in hand, moving through the sand. the sand is warm beneath their feet, even when it’s night, but the breeze is cold, and the fresh smell of the sea welcomes them well.

 

the beach is surprisingly empty, considering it’s sunset, and sunset always looks best on the beach. the view is painted a bright orange, almost like the sea is getting set on fire.

 

eventually they get closer to the shore, and seongwoo plops down next to some seashells. he toys around with them for a bit before he’s leaning back and lying down on it.

 

he closes his eyes.

 

“the sea feels different time,” he yells to minhyun, who’s ahead of him, sinking his feet where the sand meets the sea.

 

“mmm?”

 

minhyun moves closer to hear him, before seongwoo hears him lying down next to him as well.

 

he thinks minhyun has his eyes closed as well.

 

“the sea feels different this time,” he repeats. “like we took it for granted all this time. but now we’re going to _seoul_ and we can’t just take the bus to the sea anymore. right now, i feel the beauty of it. i haven’t seen it in awhile.”

 

at that moment, he feels the breeze blow against his cheeks.

 

minhyun feels it too, because he laughs, a bright laugh, and says, “it’s like the sea is saying bye to us.”

 

“told us to fuck off and never come back,” seongwoo laughs. “probably pay back for all the times we’ve come here at 4 am when the sea was _sleeping.”_

 

“nah,” minhyun says. “we were keeping her company.”

 

seongwoo just hums.

 

“do you think we’ll be okay in seoul?”

 

“hmm? like do you think we’ll be able to afford the rent?” minhyun jokes, and seongwoo groans.

 

“literally, please do not remind me,” seongwoo retorts, grimacing at the thought of higher rent and being on a budget.

 

“i think we’ll be okay,” minhyun mumbles, and then seongwoo feels minhyun’s hand search for his.

 

“i hope so,” seongwoo sighs. he finds minhyun’s hand and squeezes it tightly.

 

the sea sounds like its singing.

 

“and besides. i’m not really worried,” minhyun replies. “we have each other.”

 

“i think i wouldn’t have ever moved to seoul if you weren’t coming with me,” seongwoo admits, and he feels minhyun’s thumb forming circles on his hand.

 

“me too,” minhyun agrees. “probably would be stuck here forever, just ‘cus i’d be too scared.”

 

“we’ll be okay, right?” he asks again.

 

“yeah,” minhyun says, firmer this time. “it’s me and you against the world, seongwoo-ah.” 

 

seongwoo smiles.

 

 

⤀

 

 

_(he deserves someone better than me. he deserves someone who can give him the world.)_

 

 

“i can’t fucking believe you tried tricking me, hwang minhyun,” seongwoo mutters, as they continue to walk around the university’s quad. it’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and the quad is relatively empty (as empty as the quad can get) as everyone’s off in an afternoon lecture, or maybe at home taking a nap.

 

minhyun laughs, holding the box of chicken in one hand, and seongwoo’s beer in the other. “it wasn’t a big deal! i just wanted to tease you.”

 

“ _no_ ,” seongwoo points out. “it was you being _despicable_ and a meanie. what would you have done if i didn’t see you and had gone and ordered chicken by myself? and asked someone _else_ to eat lunch with me, huh?”

 

seongwoo had almost gone and bought chicken by _himself,_ with his _own money,_ when minhyun had texted him last minute an hour earlier in the middle of his psychology lecture cancelling their lunch plans. seongwoo had proceeded to text him a slew of _you’re really going to ditch me last minute? :(_ and _:c hwang minhyun is it becus u dont want to pay… i’ll pay next time… i promise this time :c_ and lone _:(_ faces until minhyun had threatened to block his number.

 

it wasn’t until he was sadly dragging his feet outside of the building did he see minhyun standing there with a box of chicken and a bag of drinks in his hand, grinning.

 

they stop at an empty spot on the grass, right under a large cherry blossom tree that gave them shade, and seongwoo drops his large coat onto the grass and spreads it out before plopping onto it. minhyun sets down the food first, before he’s toeing his sneakers off and joining seongwoo. he sighs happily. the cherry blossoms continue to fall. 

 

“then we would have eaten that together too! and eaten with whoever you would’ve invited. i like daniel and jihoon, too. you’re so dramatic,” minhyun counters back, as he opens the box of chicken and the smell of fried, greasy, spicy chicken hits them. he hands minhyun his sprite. 

 

“how’d you know i’d invite daniel and jihoon?” seongwoo accuses.

 

minhyun rolls his eyes. “oh please. they’re the only friends you have besides me.”

 

“ _hey,_ i’ll have you know, i have more friends than them! like. jisung. and. and _guanlin,_ how could you forget our guanli-”

 

“guanlin is like you’re son who you forced to be your son. and anyway he likes me better. also, jisung’s been busy working on his thesis lately so he wouldn’t have said yes,” minhyun states as he excitedly hands seongwoo a paper plate with piled chicken.

 

“this tastes so good,” minhyun practically moans as he stuffs chicken into his face. “got this for like $2 by the way. i used up all my saved coupons.”

 

seongwoo looks at him incredulously. “you cheapskate. did they even allow that?”

 

“i argued that they didn’t say anything about no combining coupons. pretty sure they’re gonna reprint with that rule on it now,” minhyun grins. “also, you’re in no position to be calling _me_ a cheapskate when you never want to pay for lunch!”

 

“why should i pay for lunch when you have such _great_ coupons?” seongwoo retorts sweetly, grinning at him.

 

he pops open his beer and takes a swig before he digs into the chicken that minhyun gives him.

 

minhyun clicks his tongue. “eat first, your stomach will hurt.”

 

seongwoo knows minhyun’s right, and though he’s twenty-one, he’s still childish, especially when it comes to minhyun, so instead sticks his tongue out.

 

he takes another swig. minhyun rolls his eyes.

 

“how was class, by the way?”

 

“mmm,” minhyun says, through a mouth full of food. “good. had music theory today.”

 

“jaehwan still hitting on you?”

 

minhyun chokes on mango tango chicken. “ _stop_ , _ohmygod.”_

 

“it’s a valid question! i’m just wondering!”

 

“why? you jealous, ongcheongie?”

 

“you wish,” seongwoo snorts. “i like my men small headed and able to win at uno.”

 

(maybe it was a lie. maybe seongwoo just learned to live with the simultaneous ache in his chest and the fireworks in his heart.)

 

“ok, _fuck you,_ you know how sensitive i am about games. and second, if you must know, he gave me flowers again,” minhyun laughs. “sunflowers this time. they’re back at the apartment. woojin asked to paint them for his class.”

 

seongwoo whistles. “he’s determined, i’ll give him that.”

 

minhyun smiles. “yeah, really nice too. he said he would write me a song. how _corny_.”

 

“a _song_? as in, _singing outside your balcony at 2am in the morning about how your eyes shine, song?”_

 

“yeah. if we had a balcony, maybe. and i doubt he’d actually do it anyway, but it’s the thought that counts i guess,” minhyun giggles and waves off the thought, but seongwoo catches the sliver of hope and excitement in minhyun’s eyes that linger.

 

(seongwoo thinks of an alternate universe, where wooing his best friend is normal, and wonders if there was anything he could’ve done as exciting, as heart fluttering, as writing a song.)

 

(nothing comes to mind, and he feels a new ache. not in his chest this time, but in his stomach, and he wonders if it’s the beer or something else.)

 

they continue on like that.

 

 

 

 

it’s a month later when it happens. daniel, jisung, minhyun, seongwoo, woojin, and jihoon are all sitting in a booth at _serendipity,_ a relatively popular bar just off campus. it was an open mic night, and jaehwan had invited minhyun to come watch. when he told his friends of the invite, they had all taken it upon themselves to invite themselves as well.

 

(they all just wanted to finally see who this jaehwan guy was. especially, maybe seongwoo.)

 

minki brings them their drinks, and smirks as he settles minhyun’s strawberry daiquiri sans the daiquiri in front of minhyun.

 

“and strawberry smoothie for the mister, as always,” minki teases.

 

“there’s nothing wrong with strawberry smoothie, minki,” minhyun calls out as minki walks back to the bar.

 

“this is a bar minhyun, go across the street to jamba juice if you want a strawberry smoothie!” minki yells back.

 

minhyun pouts and woojin tries to comfort him.

 

“it’s okay. i like sober minhyun more anyway,” woojin says. 

 

the rest of the table laughs at that. 

 

“that’s because drunk minhyun starts waxing poetics about nietzsche that no one understands after _one sip,”_ seongwoo interjects.

 

“ _hey—”_

 

_“_ or embarrassingly serenading one of us really loud with katy perry’s _teenage dream_ ,” jisung adds.

 

“that was _one tim—”_

 

_“_ or becomes a fucking mic hogger at karaoke even if he says he’s too tired and his throat is too dry to sing,” daniel mutters.

 

“okay, that was kind of my fau—”

 

“remember after one drink at jisung’s grad party he stole a traffic cone and put it on his head but his head was so big it got stuck?” woojin says.

 

“woojin, you’re supposed to be on _my sid—”_

 

“i’ve never seen minhyun drunk before?” jihoon says, unsurely.

 

choruses of _yeah, lucky for you,_ and _don’t jinx it_ erupt from the table as minhyun shoots them all a glare.

 

“ok, yeah,” minhyun says loudly over the noise. “i may come off _a little, not myself_ , (“--um, you think?”) when i’m drunk, but i’m rarely drunk anyway! fuck you guys. if you don’t deserve me at my drunk, you don’t deserve me at my sober.”

 

“who said w-” seongwoo starts, but is interrupted when minhyun abruptly _shhhh_ ’s him and squeezes his arm. 

 

“um, hiiiiya,” a voice says, and when seongwoo turns away from his friends and towards the makeshift stage at the front of _serendipity,_ a guy is sitting there on the single wooden stool the bar provided, a guitar on his thigh and a mic in front of him. he taps nervously along the wooden surface of his guitar, but his face is bright and his smile is genuine. “i’m, uh. so, i’m jaehwan.”

 

for the most part the bar stays quiet, but there are a few _whoop whoop!_ and screams from a table a bit closer to the stage, and jaehwan’s ears turn red as he glances at them.

 

“thank you sewoon and co for that,” he says flatly, but his eyes are twinkling, and he doesn’t really seem to mind at all. the bar erupts in quiet giggles.

 

“so,” jaehwan starts again. “i’m jaehwan. nice to meet you guys.”

 

he scans the room, little by little, squinting a bit through the stage lights until his eyes land on their table, and for a second seongwoo thinks he’s looking at him. but then he turns and sees minhyun waving at him, a grin on his face.

 

jisung mumbles an _ohmygod,_ while daniel giggles at the interaction.  


“this first song. is about someone in this room actually,” jaehwan’s voice is louder, more confident.

 

“no, sewoon, this isn’t about you, sorry,” he adds, and the bar laughs again. he’s looking straight at minhyun.

 

“oh my god, he actually wrote a fucking song about you,” woojin breathes out, and minhyun looks like he wants to die, but also like nothing greater has ever happened to him.

 

“it’s about…. meeting someone in really normal circumstances and… having really not normal other-worldly feelings for them. not quite love, but it could be,” he says, and he ducks his head in embarrassment.

 

“ouch,” minhyun hisses, when daniel who’s on the other side of him, elbows him and wiggles his eyebrows, but he’s smiling anyway, and seongwoo can feel the happiness, the shyness radiating from him.

 

seongwoo feels something stuck in his throat. the back of his eyes prickle. he blinks a couple of times and wills it to go away.

 

choruses of _awws_ are heard from the crowd, and jaehwan quickly looks up.

 

“anyway, so i’m going to sing now. here we go.”

 

_i could feel the tension_

_we could cut it with a knife_

_i know it’s more than just a friendship_

_i can hear you thinking ‘bout it, yeah_

 

_do you got plans tonight?_

_i was hoping i could get lost in your paradise_

_the only thing i’m thinking ‘bout is you and i_

 

_‘cus i can’t seem to get you off my mind_

 

⬴

 

seongwoo supposes he always loved minhyun — from the very first time minhyun had smiled at him and handed him his birthday card.

 

he doesn’t know when the line blurred though. the line that sits firmly between loving someone and being in love with someone.

 

 

seongwoo thinks he finally realises it when they were freshman in college. twelve years of friendship and it’s taken him that long to realise, he thinks.

 

he’s known for sure that the line had blurred long ago, but it’s not then, not until that moment does he finally come to terms with it.

 

it’s midterms week, his first college midterms week, and he’s dozing off in the library. his first exam week in college is kicking his ass more than he thought it would, and in the past week and a half he’s had no more than thirty minutes of sleep a night at most. 

 

his back hurts, his legs are bent uncomfortably under the table — too long and completely stiff by now. his arm is bent awkwardly on his notebook, and his head rests on his overheating laptop. still, he’s so tired he chooses to ignore the ache in his body.

 

“seongwoo,” a voice says, and he thinks for a second it’s an angel coming to collect his dues. “seongwoo-ah.”

 

“if this is the higher gods coming to collect, can you tell them to just wait until i pass this fucking midterm first,” seongwoo mumbles.

 

he hears a chuckle instead, and he thinks thats a pretty good sign. nobody ever told him the higher gods were lenient.

 

“seongwoo-ah. let’s get you to bed, mm?” the voice is soft, clearer, and he thinks it sounds a bit familiar.

 

“how come the angel sounds like minhyunnie? you sound a lot like my friend, minhyun.”

 

another chuckle. instead of answering though, he hears rustling. it’s kind of loud, and kind of bothersome, but seongwoo’s too tired to open his eyes to check on the noise.

 

“mister angel, you’re supposed to be quiet at the library. so if you could, just, _shhhh,_ ” he says instead.

 

more rustling, until he feels his laptop move from under him and his head drops onto the surface of the table instead.

 

he groans at the sudden movement, and finally wills all of his energy to open one eye.

 

minhyun is there, stuffing his laptop into his bag, and when he takes notice of seongwoo squinting at him, he grins.

 

“let’s go home?”

 

“oh, look,” seongwoo says, smiling at minhyun groggily. “it’s actually you.”

 

and minhyun laughs that minhyun laugh of his and slowly hoists seongwoo up from his chair.

 

and then they go home.

 

after (struggling) to drag seongwoo through the university trails from the library, and finally in their tiny, shared dorm room, he settles seongwoo in his bed, sitting him upright first before he’s peeling seongwoo’s jacket off and helping him out of his socks and under his comforter. seongwoo to be honest, is not quite awake enough to really understand what’s happening but all he knows is that minhyun is humming and he’s tired, so _tired,_ and this feels good. having someone take care of you feels good.

 

with a little bit more rustling and seongwoo lying comfortably onto his pillow, minhyun tucks him in before he says _goodnight, seongwoo._

 

and he sighs, and he thinks minhyun is about to go. but he doesn’t.

 

he doesn’t. because before seongwoo is even realising what’s happening, he’s wrapping his hand around minhyun’s wrists and is asking him to stay.

 

“okay. i’ll stay with you,” minhyun responds softly, and he hears the sound of the wooden chair scraping back.

 

seongwoo’s eyes are still shut closed, but he shakes his head against the pillow.

 

“no, stay here. with me,” he mumbles out, and manages to raise his arm enough to tap the empty space beside him on his bed.

 

he hears minhyun suck in a breath. 

 

for a bit, it’s silent, and seongwoo thinks minhyun’s going to say no. the silence is so deafening, so _still,_ that seongwoo is about to just fall back asleep again, but then suddenly the covers are being lifted, and he feels a warm body slide in too.

 

the bed is small, and they’re both not the smallest people, so seongwoo moves towards the wall until minhyun’s settled in nicely. 

 

they stay like that for awhile, quiet, before seongwoo’s neck kind of hurts and suddenly he’s inching forward to rest his head onto minhyun’s shoulder.

 

his eyes remain shut. “thank you, for bringing me back here.”

 

and then minhyun’s running his hands through seongwoo’s hair and seongwoo’s making a noise of surprise and appreciation at once.

 

“mmm,” minhyun just says. “go sleep, i’ll wake you up when it’s time for you to take your exam.”

 

minhyun starts humming again. and then humming turns to singing quietly — something like a lullaby. it’s not like they’ve never cuddled before, they were always touchy people, especially with each other, but that’s when it happens.

 

that’s when it settles. _oh,_ seongwoo thinks. the feeling in his chest settles, the one that’s been sitting there like a rock for years, and now he thinks he finally understands it. understands why it’s never gone away. understands why sometimes it feels like the heaviest ache in the world, and why sometimes it feels like the best kind of ache in the world.

 

he realises it at that moment, when minhyun is singing softly, hand threading through his bangs, that he couldn’t live without it, this feeling.

 

he can’t imagine life without him. without minhyun filling in his cracks and crevices. without him to paint color in the grey areas.

 

he couldn’t imagine it.

 

not exactly that he couldn’t, he realises, he just didn’t quite want to.

 

 

⤀

 

minhyun finally accepts jaehwan’s offers to go on a date that night.

 

jaehwan finishes his song, and everyones screaming and hollering, everyone at their table is elbowing and poking fun at a blushing minhyun, and jaehwan is looking at minhyun, only at minhyun.

 

and seongwoo cannot find it in himself to be upset. because minhyun looks so happy, and jaehwan seems like a good guy, and minhyun only deserves the world.

 

and before he is selfish and greedy, he's in love with minhyun and wants only for him to be happy.

 

so instead he smiles, and ushers minhyun like the rest of his friends to go meet up with jaehwan backstage.

 

 

⤀

 

_(maybe. maybe if the circumstances were different.)_

 

 

 

despite seongwoo hoping that things won’t change, that things will never change, things change.

 

it’s inevitable, he knows, because that’s the nature of life. things change. the sun is out, the leaves turn to green, and you start turning on the air conditioner more frequently. things change.

 

especially when there’s someone new in your life. space in your time, in your mind, in your heart is to be made. space is to be made, to be filled, to be cared for.

 

so like all things, seongwoo and minhyun change.

 

they’re little changes, but seongwoo overthinks. always has, probably always will. so when the first cancellation plan for their lunch comes through, his stomach drops.

 

still, he waits, thinks this is just minhyun teasing him again. but when he walks out of lecture holding his breath and no minhyun in sight, the rock in his chest aches again. like a rope tightening over it, again and again.

 

 

 

 

he meets jaehwan, _properly_ _meets_ jaehwan, two days after the first time minhyun cancels on him for lunch.

 

seongwoo comes back to him and minhyun’s shared apartment off campus, exhausted. their apartment is close enough to campus that they can just walk, but when it’s days like this when the wind isn’t blowing and the weather makes him feel like a cooked egg, it feels like forever.

 

“minhyunnie,” he calls out, whining as he toes off his shoes. “it’s so hot. do we have ice cream? i think i’m gonna die.”

 

after he properly removes his boots (god, why did he even think to wear boots) and looks up, he stops.

 

he stays frozen by the front door.

 

“um.”

 

“there’s no ice cream, but there's like some sorbet thing?” jaehwan smiles. he’s holding a tub of strawberry sorbet in his hand, holding it out.

 

“um,” is all seongwoo says again. he blinks.

 

“oh my gosh, sorry,” jaehwan laughs. it’s a high laugh, but it’s pleasant. “i’m jaehwan? i think. i think we met briefly at the bar before?”

 

seongwoo wills himself to snap out of it.

 

“yeah, yeah,” he says quickly, removing himself from the entrance of their apartment to drop his bag to the floor. “sorry, was kind of confused on what you were doing in my house. i’m seongwoo.”

 

“sorry! i guess minhyun should’ve texted you. he’s in the shower right now,” and he gestures back to the hallway where the bathroom is. sure enough, if seongwoo listens closer, he hears the water running and minhyun singing. “we were out and he said we could watch movies here.”

 

“yeah of course,” seongwoo nods, agreeing. he smiles gratefully when jaehwan offers the sorbet again. “thanks.”

 

he sits down at their small dining table and pops open the lid. jaehwan sits down across from him, and smiles. he taps nervously on the surface.

 

“um,” seongwoo starts after a few minutes of silence, scooping sorbet into his mouth.

 

“yeah?” jaewhan says brightly, a look of relief on his face after the tense silence.

 

“how did you and minhyun meet?”

 

he knows how they met, but the silence is awkward and he doesn’t know what else to say.

 

“oh, we met in class,” jaehwan responds happily at the thought of minhyun. “he’s really good with music.”

 

“so are you,” seongwoo says, and jaehwan ears turn red. “can’t believe you really wrote a song about him. way to make a guy swoon.”

 

he gives jaehwan a thumbs up, and jaehwan laughs again, louder and more manic than the previous one, and seongwoo is surprised. “god, it’s kind of embarrassing when you think about it. how corny, right?”

 

“that’s what minhyun said. but he ended up really loving it.”

 

“ah, well i’m glad,” jaehwan nods. “usually. i, uh, don’t do stuff like that. but minhyun’s special, you know? something about him.”

 

jaehwan doesn’t say much after. doesn’t try to explain, doesn’t offer up anything else, but it’s okay because seongwoo knows. seongwoo knows exactly what he means. he swallows and nods instead.

 

“so, you and minhyun have known each other for a long time, right?” jaehwan asks.

 

seongwoo nods. “yep,” he says popping his ‘p’. “since we were six.”

 

“wow,” jaehwan looks surprised. “that’s why he talks about you all the time. he’s known you, like, all his life.”

 

something about how minhyun talks about him all the time makes him feel pleased and warm.

 

“unfortunately,” he responds, and jaehwan cackles again because they both know there’s no bite behind his words.

 

 

they hear a noise, and when they both look towards the hallway, minhyun steps out, humming and running a towel through his hair.

 

“oh,” he says brightly when he notices them seated at the table, talking. “you’re home.”

 

“yep,” seongwoo says, for the second time in a span of five minutes.

 

“the cold water isn’t working again,” minhyun says.

 

seongwoo sighs.

 

“but the hot water is,” he says on a brighter note.

 

and. he can’t help it. he really can’t.

 

“well i sure hope it does,” he says, because he’s a dumb millennial who finds dumb humour in dumb things and loves to re-enact said dumb things.

 

except he’s not the only one.

 

because at the same time, jaehwan says _well i sure hope it does_ too, and suddenly, seongwoo and jaehwan look at each other, kind of in shock, kind of in amazement, and seongwoo can’t believe that a fucking _vine,_ really just broke the ice between him and the love of his life’s probable boyfriend, and really, this is kind of overwhelming.

 

“ohmygod,” they say in unison, and minhyun who stands frozen by the hallway in confusion says the same thing seconds later too.

 

and suddenly everyone’s laughing and between breaths minhyun says “god, there’s two of you. there’s fucking two of you in my life now.”

 

jaehwan is a good guy — good for minhyun, and he cannot find it in himself to be upset or dislike jaehwan.

 

because as minhyun settles onto the table to join them with an uno stack in his hand, he sees why minhyun likes jaehwan and why jaehwan likes minhyun.

 

and so they talk and get to know each other, through playing uno, through ordering a half cheese half meat lovers pizza, through another game of monopoly.

 

and maybe if the circumstances were different, seongwoo would maybe say no, maybe ask minhyun to open his eyes and look at him instead.

 

but the circumstances aren’t different, and minhyun is happy, and jaehwan is a good guy, and seongwoo decides that he’ll be okay.

 

 

⤀

 

sungwoon comes into his life like most things do. unexpectedly, unapologetically, and with a force.

 

literally.

 

he’s not sure who’s rushing first — seongwoo who’s late to class, or him.

 

sungwoon, he comes to know after it all happens. 

he’s rushing, as quick as he can because mr. kang _hates_ tardies and thinks _if they’re not going to show up on time don’t show up at all,_ and he really cannot miss any more lectures because he knows fuck-all about punnett squares even if he’s 99.9% sure he learned it sometime in high school. but that’s complete mush in his brain now, so he _can’t_ be late to lecture, and he’s rushing, rushing as fast as he’s ever gone.

 

turns out, someone else is too, because suddenly he’s on the floor, and he’s crying out in pain, and there’s someone else groaning on the floor, and abandoned skateboard right in between them.

 

it takes him all but four seconds to get himself together, but then he’s standing, and pretending like there isn’t a sharp pain running up his leg.

 

he stands quickly, and he thinks he feels blood drizzle down under his pant leg, but he ignores it anyway and goes to the guy sitting on the floor clutching his ankle.

 

“hey dude,” seongwoo says breathlessly. “are you okay?”

 

“um, yeah,” the guy says, and seongwoo holds his hand out.

 

the guy clutches it without question and hoists himself up. he thinks the guy tries to hide it, but the guy’s face scrunches up with pain, and seongwoo knows he isn’t okay.

 

the guy tries to fully stand on his own, but in a second, seongwoo knows right away that it’s impossible.

 

“i think you’ve sprained your ankle,” he says carefully, and he drops down on his knees to check out the guy’s left ankle. it’s obviously swollen, huge, almost the size of his own fist, and a blooming purple.

 

“ah, i’ll be okay,” the guy says anyway. “you’re in a hurry, you should go.”

 

seongwoo shakes his head. "no, what the fuck. you're hurt!"

 

"no, i'm fine. i promise. see, look," and the guy attempts to stand on both legs. he does it for awhile, and seongwoo would've probably bought it, if he didn't try to take a step forward and end up flinching. the guy bares his teeth in pain. 

 

"okay, so, _no,_ you're definitely not okay," seongwoo responds, grabbing quickly onto the guy's arm and steadying him again.

 

instead, seongwoo crouches down in front of him.

 

when he doesn't feel anything, he turns around to find the guy looking at him warily. 

 

"what are you doing? get on," seongwoo says.

 

"um," the guy starts. "i don't know if you can carry me."

 

seongwoo snorts. "what are you, like, 4'8?"

 

" _hey,"_ he protests. "we don't even know each other like that! rude."

 

"okay, i'm _sorry,_ but seriously, get on. i can carry you," he reassures.

 

the guy gives him a wary glance one more time before he gives and starts crouching and letting himself onto seongwoo's back.

 

"sorry if i'm heavy," he murmurs into seongwoo's ear as he seongwoo hoists him up and grabs the abandoned skateboard. 

 

he starts the trek to the campus clinic. the grip around him tightens. 

 

"s'okay," seongwoo says, but after a few minutes its clear he's eaten one too many packets of ramen and not enough exercise. "i can benchpress, like, eighty of you probably."

 

the guy laughs, and it's a nice one. different from minhyun's -- high pitched and like a bell. 

 

"sure you can," because he clearly feels seongwoo shaking under him. "i'm sungwoon."

 

"seongwoo," he responds. "sorry we had to meet this way."

 

"likewise. i'll take the blame for it since you're the one carrying me now. and you're probably going to miss whatever you were late for."

 

seongwoo shrugs. "i was gonna be late anyway. and professor kang says if you're going to be late just don't show up at all, so it's fine."

 

"okay, well. thank you," sungwoon says awkwardly. his throat vibrates again seongwoo's shoulder. "i think i would've just crawled to the clinic if you had really left me back there."

 

the image burns in seongwoo's mind, and suddenly he finds himself giggling at the thought. "oh my god."

 

"i'm serious! i would've," he continues. "and i'm that type of person who hates asking for help so if someone had stopped and asked if i was okay, i'd probably just say yes, and continue on my crawling merry way."

 

seongwoo laughs again, and he feels that permanent ache in chest tingle a little bit.

 

the ropes loosen, and he lets out a breath. 

 

⤀

 

just as easily as he meets sungwoon, sungwoon easily inserts himself into his life.

 

it goes a little something like this:

 

sungwoon and seongwoo agreeing to stay in touch after sungwoon gets his ankle checked, because sungwoon wants to properly thank him, and seongwoo wants to make sure he heals well.

 

then it continues when sungwoon and seongwoo are out for lunch getting burritos and run into daniel, and turns out sungwoon knows daniel.

 

and then seongwoo finds out sungwoon is an absolute _social butterfly_ , because it turns out he knows jisung, jihoon, woojin, minhyun and even freshman _guanlin,_ too, who he honestly thought he had all to himself.

 

“how do you guys all know him?” seongwoo asks one time, incredulously, at lunch withdaniel, woojin, and guanlin.

 

“dude,” woojin says. “how do you _not_ know him?”

 

“woojin and i met him through dance, and i think jisung and minhyun met him because he sings too. and jihoon’s in the student council with him,” daniel says.

 

“and i know him because he went up to me at the student fair once. hyung is really nice,” guanlin adds.

 

“huh,” is all seongwoo says.

 

and so it went. sungwoon slowly inserts himself into seongwoo’s life.

 

⤀

 

when the brown leaves have fallen and replaced by a white blanket, and the tunes of the street start singing of a man in the north pole, minhyun peaks his head into seongwoo’s room as he’s scrolling mindlessly onto twitter, headphones in.

 

“hi, uh, hi,” seongwoo says, looking up at him in surprise.

 

minhyun and seongwoo still talked, of course they did. they were roommates, and they were best friends. but before seongwoo had even realised, the lunches they had grown accustomed to had grown to weekly lunches, the movie nights had become once a month, and something had changed. something had _changed_ , because the ache in seongwoo’s chest was no longer consistent, and seongwoo would be happy, if it didn’t mean that it was replaced with something hollow.

 

he removes his earphones and looks at him, expectedly. minhyun awkwardly slides himself into his room. he stands there, stiffly, and seongwoo’s heart hurts.

 

minhyun wrings his wrists and smiles at him.

 

“do you want to cook with me? and watch a movie together?”

 

seongwoo’s eyes soften. the warmth in his heart returns.

 

“me? cook? scratch that. _you? cook?”_

 

minhyun sticks his tongue out. “i’ve been watching cooking videos all day. i’m sure i can make pasta.”

 

“sauce in a jar?”

 

“maybe.”

 

seongwoo laughs. “somehow i still feel like you’re going to find a way to fuck it up.”

 

“sure, but maybe you can be there to watch it all go into flames?”

 

“i’ll be a worthy witness, a complete asset, when the building goes up in flames and you’re taken in for questioning,” seongwoo says, seriously.

 

minhyun grins. “okay, okay. i’ll start boiling the pasta, come help me.”

 

 

minhyun doesn’t burn the pasta, despite seongwoo’s words.

 

actually, it was seongwoo who almost burned down the building.

 

it goes like this:

 

minhyun is singing again when seongwoo walks into their tiny kitchen, dropping bow-tie pasta into a pot. seongwoo laughs at the sight, somehow minhyun manages to spill half of them over the pot and onto the stovetop, and minhyun’s annoyed face is cute.

 

when minhyun turns around and sees seongwoo laughing, his face turns into a pout, and he looks at seongwoo helplessly.  


“why are you laughing at me? i almost just _actually_ burned our house down.”

 

“just…” seongwoo giggles. “you’re so cute.”

 

and even if minhyun has said one hundred more corny things to seongwoo, and it’s normal for them to say things like this and play it off, minhyun’s ears turn red as he turns away to grab another pot.

 

“don’t be gross,” minhyun says, grabbing a jar of white sauce to pour into the pot.

 

“can’t help it,” seongwoo responds without missing a beat. he grabs a spatula to stir the sauce as minhyun moves to grab plates for them. “you’re the _main character of my heart,_ minhyun.”

 

because it's minhyun and seongwoo. and it's the kind of thing that minhyun and seongwoo say.

 

minhyun, who’s passing by on the way to the sink turns red at the response and elbows seongwoo in the back. “ _oh my god.”_

 

and seongwoo, if asked, will deny that he was being overdramatic and trying to be funny, and completely, one hundred percent, blames minhyun.

 

but suddenly he’s moving forward towards the stovetop, and his really, really loose shirt is on fire, and minhyun is screaming, and rushing around the kitchen, and seongwoo’s kind of in shock.

 

“ _holy shit, fucking, SEONGWOO, hol-“_

 

maybe it was his subconscious telling him that he has no right to freak out, it’s really his own fault for exaggerating minhyun’s push, but he blankly just stares at the growing fire and heat near his stomach, and suddenly minhyun’s pushing him aside and dunking a crazy amount of water over him.

 

the small, but growing fire fizzles out at that, and minhyun’s panicked expression turns into relief as all that’s left is seongwoo’s half burn shirt, and his shocked expression.

seongwoo barely processes it. 

 

minhyun's leaning against their kitchen counter, breathing heavily in relief, their fire alarm is going off, and seongwoo simply just clutches at his shirt.

 

when minhyun finally opens his eyes, and his breathing has normalised, minhyun takes a look at seongwoo’s face.

 

they stare at each other for a few seconds.

 

and then, they’re both bursting out in laughter, a product of the adrenaline high they just experienced, over the sounds of their fire alarm going off, and he thinks they hear their upstairs neighbor stomp their foot on the ground at the noise, but they continue laughing -- the kind of laugh where they fall into each other, and minhyun’s head is nestled into seongwoo’s neck, his arms wrapped around seongwoo, clutched tightly.

 

“don’t fucking,” minhyun says between breaths. “don't do that again.”

 

“i’m sorry,” seongwoo says, and he feels minhyun’s grip tighten.

 

“i can’t believe _you_ were the one who made it go up into flames,” minhyun says incredulously, but he’s still laughing anyway.

 

 

 

 

they decide to order pizza instead, their sauce ruined by the water fiasco, and their pasta too soft after being boiled for too long.

 

and then they sit and watch iron man, a _compromise,_ because seongwoo wanted a superhero movie and minhyun was tired of watching dr. strange, and everything feels normal again, feels right in the world.

 

it feels like a piece of a puzzle is found in his heart, settled right where it’s supposed to be.

 

it feels like something clicking into place.

 

⤀

 

somewhere around the time when everyone comes back home to celebrate the autumn harvest festival and wish _chuseok_ to family, sungwoon gathers on his tiptoes and kisses seongwoo square on the mouth.

 

seongwoo drops him off all the way to the train platform in the middle of seoul station, and it’s a goodbye for a few days as they go back to their families for the holiday.

 

they’re joking around about sending each other the pride of their hometowns, sungwoon with his grandpa’s _just wonderful, really interesting,_ farm, and seongwoo with his mom’s seafood restaurant, a gem, a _rarity,_ he insists, in a sea town.

 

and they’re laughing, and seongwoo is reaching down to move sungwoon’s bangs away from his eyes, and sungwoon is leaning up, up, up, and kissing him.

 

seongwoo feels light.

 

⤀

 

minhyun calls him on a night that he’s out with sungwoon.

 

“yeah?” seongwoo says into the phone.

 

“sorry, are you busy right now?” minhyun says, voice tired.

 

“just bowling with sungwoon, what’s wrong. are you okay?” 

 

the bowling alley is loud, and he can barely hear minhyun over the cheers of _STRIKE!_ and _LOSER, I WIN,_ so he gestures to sungwoon that he’ll be stepping outside, and goes on his way. he goes through the dark hallway leading to the entrance, ducking his head at the christmas decorations littering the walls.

 

“no, it’s okay, go have fun with sungwoon, tell him i said hi, okay?”

 

“no, no, i’m already outside. what’s up, minhyun. what’s wrong?”

 

“nothing,” he hears a sigh. “just. just wanted to ask you something.”

 

“yeah, i’m all open. what’s up?”

 

the line is silent for awhile, and seongwoo would have thought the line went dead if he didn’t still hear minhyun’s breathing.

 

“how do you know,” he starts out slowly. “when things are right for you?”

 

“what?”

 

minhyun repeats the question.

 

“i mean,” seongwoo replies, thinking. “i think there are just some things, some people in life that just fit. they just fit, you know? no matter what way you go about thinking through it. sometimes it just fits, and it makes you feel something. you feel good, and you feel happy, and you wouldn’t trade that feeling, ever.”

 

the line is silent, and he thinks minhyun is pondering over seongwoo’s answer. it doesn’t make sense to him either, not really, but it also makes complete sense.

 

“but,” he hears minhyun biting his nails. “can something be right for you, you think, but the universe won’t allow you to have it? like the timing’s not right?”

 

“absolutely. i think. i think there are some things when something feel’s so right, but doesn’t mean other things surrounding it are. sometimes, even if it feels right, and even if you do everything to hold on to it, it just isn’t meant to be. life fucks us over that way,” seongwoo says softly.

 

it’s quiet again.

 

“minhyun?”

 

“okay, thank you,” minhyun breathes out. “go say hi to sungwoon for me, okay?”

 

⤀

 

they don’t talk about the phone call again.

 

⤀

 

 

one night, after a long day of project deadlines, and running errands, and socialising (woojin had forced all of them to stop by his new year’s eve’s eve’s eve party), seongwoo is lying on the couch, head in minhyun’s lap, with his eyes closed.

 

minhyun is humming, as always, reading a book with one hand, and the other playing with seongwoo’s hair.

 

it’s a therapeutic, the humming, the feeling of minhyun’s fingers along his scalp, and the warmth from minhyun’s body.

 

“i have news,” minhyun mumbles.

 

“mmm?”

 

“i mean, i guess it’s not a big deal but…” he trails off.

 

minhyun breathes out.

 

seongwoo just makes a noise.

 

“minhyun,” seongwoo says softly. “you don’t have to justify it. if it is a big deal, it’s okay. and if not, that’s okay too.”

 

“okay,” minhyun says lightly. “okay. um, jaehwan and i broke up.”

 

seongwoo shoots his eyes open. his head doesn’t leave minhyun’s lap, but he looks up to try to assess minhyun’s face.

 

it doesn’t do much, minhyun’s face is blank, but his eyes are hardened as he stares at his book.

 

“i’m.. i’m sorry.”

 

“it’s okay. i think i’ll be okay,” minhyun responds. 

 

“i know… but still,” seongwoo says, reaching up to grab minhyun’s hand. he squeezes it.

 

“it’s okay,” minhyun repeats. 

 

“there’s a lot more to love than just being in love,” is all he says, and seongwoo thinks he gets it.

 

 

⤀

 

sungwoon and him break up after seongwoo’s third year of university and sungwoon’s last year at university.

 

it’s not a bad one, and seongwoo is thankful.

 

sungwoon’s going to america for a job, _new york city,_ where the big fishes swim, and seongwoo doesn’t really have it in him to put a stop to it.

 

and anyway, as they talk about it one night at the han river, a month before sungwoon leaves, they both don’t mutually love each other enough to put themselves through a long distance relationship.

 

it’s not hurtful, when they hear that from each other — sungwoon and seongwoo no doubt love each other.

 

but a long distance relationship is hard, they both know, and you have to really love someone a lot to do that to yourself.and anyway, somewhere between the last seven months, they realise they work better as friends, work _great_ as friends, and nothing’s going to change that.

 

so seongwoo is the one who drops him off at the airport, who kisses him on the cheek goodbye.

 

sungwoon promises to send him pictures of anything and everything, and that _these past few months were good and i don’t regret any of it, by the way,_ and leaves with a smile on his face.

 

it hurts a little bit -- but its a different kind of hurt that he's never experienced before. the type of hurt that hurts, but you know it won't last long. the type of hurt where it hurts, but you know you'll be okay. the rare kind of hurt.

 

seongwoo feels light. 

 

⤀

 

_(maybe we’re right for each other. maybe i’ve been wrong this whole time.)_

 

the first time seongwoo thinks that maybe he has a chance, maybe he and minhyun have a chance, is the day he gets home clutching the first F of his senior year in university in his hand.

 

the day had been long and rough and he doesn't remember the last time he had something in his stomach that wasn't coffee. doesn't really remember how many hours, how many days, he's been awake right now, actually.

 

"hey," he hears, and when he looks up sadly to the noise he sees minhyun setting down plates on their tiny dining room table. he has a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder and he looks at seongwoo with worry. 

 

it looks like home.

 

"hi," seongwoo mumbles, reaching down to remove his boots, dropping his backpack with a loud thud.

 

“you’re home,” minhyun says quietly. “you haven’t really texted in a couple of days. and you’ve rarely been home. i was worried.”

 

seongwoo smiles in reassurance. “i’m sorry.”

 

“it’s okay. are you okay, though?”

 

he smiles again and makes an attempt to wave it off, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. he’s _so tired._

 

“i’m-“ seongwoo starts. and then he’s crying.

 

he’s crying because he hasn’t slept in _god_ _knows_ how many days, he thought he was going to die from exhaustion a couple of hours ago after downing four cups of coffee then going to help daniel with his dance routine, he studied for _weeks_ on an exam he just got an F on, and he’s just so, so tired.

 

“hey, hey,” minhyun says, and then he’s rushing over to the door to give seongwoo a hug.

 

when the warmth envelopes him, he crumbles.

 

he’s crying into minhyun’s shoulder, and minhyun is rubbing circles against his back, and they stay like that.

 

“seongwoo-ah, it’s okay. you’re okay,” minhyun says quietly, and he lets him cry.

 

 

 

seongwoo doesn’t know how long they stay like that, everything’s kind of blurry to him, but when he gathers his wits and finally calms down, he sees that they’re sitting on their couch now.

 

minhyun still holds his hand. the tears become reduced to hiccups. his body feels heavy.

 

“i’m just,” seongwoo hiccups. he looks down at his hands. “i’m sorry.”

 

because he is, he’s _sorry_ , because he’s never the one to cry — neither him or minhyun are, and he’s not one to cry _especially_ in front of others, even in front of minhyun, and he hates, hates, _hates,_ showing himself vulnerable and like he doesn’t have everything in his life handled.

 

he’s supposed to be the _happy_ friend in their group, the warm one who makes dumb jokes just to make others laugh. the one who’s supposed to be there when woojin can’t understand calculus or when guanlin feels lonely or when minhyun wants to do something weird like see a foreign movie without subtitles.

 

so he’s _so_ _rry,_ because he’s not supposed to be like this.

 

minhyun shakes his head. “why are you sorry?”

 

seongwoo sniffles. “i’m. i’m sorry for crying. i’m okay, i’m okay now.”

 

he inhales.

 

“seongwoo-ah, it’s okay to cry.”

 

“i just,” seongwoo starts.

 

“mmm?”

 

“i’m just. i’m so tired,” seongwoo finally admits, and his shoulders hunch in embarrassment.

 

“when’s the last time you slept, seongwoo-ah?” minhyun says, and judging by the hollowness of seongwoo’s face and the dark purple under his eyes, he’s scared to hear the answer.

 

“i don’t know,” seongwoo says, and he brings his knees up to his chest. “i let myself sleep for ten minutes earlier. while daniel was trying to get the speakers in the dance room to work.”

 

“seongwoo-ah,” minhyun says again, softer this time, gazing at him curiously.

 

“maybe three days ago? four?” seongwoo admits and it all comes tumbling out. “i don’t really remember. i was just so busy, you know, i had promised to help daniel with his dance for the showcase _months_ ago, so i couldn’t just cancel on him last minute and then i had that group project for philosophy and aron didn’t even _show_ _up_ and you know how i get, i get anxious when it comes to these group projects so i did his work too even if he said he was going to get it done, and then i had that stupid, _stupid,_ political science exam, which i studied for _weeks,_ but i failed anyway, a big _,_ fucking _, stupid, F,_ and my literature class had like, four things due this week — we finished our novel is why, so you know, analysing, essay, discussion and stuff and, and— i just. there was no time.”

 

“ _oh, seongwoo.”_

 

_“_ i know. i _know_. it was dumb,” he says, voice thick.

 

“it was,” minhyun says, and his face is half disappointed and half worried. “when was the last time you ate?”

 

seongwoo shrugs. 

 

“um,” seongwoo says, and minhyun looks at him pointedly. “i’m pretty sure i had banana bread when i got coffee.”

 

minhyun’s eyebrows shoot up.

 

“… that was two days ago? i think? or maybe yesterday?”

 

minhyun makes a noise of protest.

 

“ _seongwoo_ , you have to eat. you can’t not eat and not sleep. your body’s going to shut down and you’re going to get sick, and then what?” minhyun says quickly and heavily, and seongwoo feels so bad, even worse for worrying minhyun and he _rea-_

 

_“seongwoo-ah,”_ minhyun says, and he sighs and he runs his fingers through his hair before he looks up at seongwoo again. “i’m sorry. i’m not mad. that’s not what you need right now.”

 

“i’m sorry.”

 

“no, no,” minhyun protests, and he gives seongwoo a small smile. “don’t be sorry, okay? jus- don’t. you’re not at fault.”

 

seongwoo nods, and he feels like a child. even if minhyun says not to, he still does — he still feels sorry. he hates the fact that minhyun has to _scold_ him, like he’s a child who can’t take care of himself without careful scrutiny.

 

“seongwoo-ah, you have tell me when you’re stressed, or when you’re busy, or _anything,_ okay? i want to at least help, or bring you food, or make sure you sleep, or _something._ we’ve known each other for so long, you know i’ll always be here. i’ll always come in a heartbeat. you know that, right?” minhyun says, and seongwoo nods, fiddling with the loose thread on his jeans.

 

“please don’t shut me out,” minhyun says helplessly. “we’re in this together, right?”

 

“yeah,” seongwoo swallows, and smiles at the thought. “yeah.”

 

“okay. ‘cus that means, if you don’t sleep, _i don’t sleep,_ and if you don’t eat, _i don’t eat,_ ” minhyun jokes, and when seongwoo looks up at him in bewilderment, he’s grinning.

 

“didn’t our teachers ever tell you in elementary school not to jump off a bridge just because you’re friend would?”

 

“i didn’t talk, _remember.”_

 

“how would i have known — i mean, you didn’t talk but _somehow,_ you were still the teacher’s pet?”

 

“maybe ‘cus i did my work, and wasn’t disrupting class all the time, like _some-“_

 

_“—_ i’m just saying it’s _fishy,_ is all!”

 

minhyun is smirking at him, and seongwoo is smiling back, and he lets out a breath.

 

“but seriously,” minhyun says. “please don’t do that again. like i know how hard and tiring it can get, but, don’t shut me out, yeah?”

 

seongwoo nods. “i’m sorry.”

 

“ _and stop saying sorry,”_ minhyun adds.

 

“okay, _okay,_ i’m sor- okay. wait,” seongwoo stops. “this is a lot harder than it looks, okay.”

 

minhyun laughs, and stands up. “c’mon. help me finish setting the table. so you can _eat,_ and then go to _sleep_ for fuck’s sake.”

 

“stop sounding like my mom,” seongwoo whines, but he follows him anyway.

 

“your mom’s the only one who can be worried about you?”

 

“that’s not what i _mean, just like, stop naggi-“_

 

“and how can i stop acting nagging when you literally just stayed awake for four days straight on _coffee and banana bread?”_

 

_“_ okay, okay i get it!” seongwoo reaches over to smack minhyun on the arm, and minhyun flinches.

 

he says something about how seongwoo is so _ungrateful,_ and _i already made us some chicken parmesan can you stop hitting me,_ and seongwoo looks at him pointedly before minhyun admits that it was pre-made and he just had to heat it up, and everything, _everything,_ feels instantaneously better.

 

 

later that night, minhyun climbs into bed with him and it’s so much easier to drift off to sleep with him by his side, no matter how tired he was in the first place, because minhyun is _home_ to him, and home is wherever he feels the safest.

 

and he loves this feeling, this feeling of home so much, that he considers telling minhyun that _hey, i love you_ and gambling it all.

 

 

⤀

 

seongwoo doesn’t figure out that everyone’s tired of their bullshit until their university’s annual dance showcase.

 

he’s barreling through the crowd of people with minhyun clutching onto his hand tightly, looking for their group of friends. it’s jihoon he spots first, surprisingly, what with the bright pink hair tied up like an apple.

 

“oh my god,” he yells, and when jisung, jihoon, and the rest turn around and smile, he pushes them aside to get to guanlin.

 

“i cannot believe i absolutely birthed the next _hoya,”_ seongwoo cries out, letting minhyun’s hand go to throw it around guanlin’s neck.

 

(everybody laughs because they all know it’s far from the truth.)

 

“if he’s the next hoya, then who i am?” woojin protests, and seongwoo finally lets go of guanlin (after much whining from the younger) to grin at woojin.

 

“you, sir, are no one,” seongwoo starts.

 

“what the fuck—"

 

“because _you’re_ not going to be the next anyone. you’re going to be the first and only park woojin,” seongwoo explains proudly, and minhyun coos while the rest groan in embarrassment.

 

“okay, thanks _uncle_ , enough,” woojin mutters as guanlin laughs, wrapping his arms around woojin and squeezing.

 

seongwoo turns to minhyun with a raised eyebrow, and minhyun waggles his eyebrows back. 

 

guanlin’s had a crush on woojin since his first year at university, and all of them, except woojin know that he only joined the dance team because woojin was on it.

 

and honestly, they all also knew, that if woojin wasn’t so secretly in love with him too, guanlin wouldn’t have made the team.

 

seongwoo moves toward minhyun and slides his arm around his waist.

 

“look, honey,” he sniffles. “our children. so grown up.”

 

minhyun laughs, and puts his arm around seongwoo's waist as well. 

 

“you know, i really didn’t think they could make us even prouder than they already have, but they did it, and honestly. this is kind of the best day of my life,” minhyun responds, because he’s him, and he always plays along with seongwoo’s antics.

 

“i’m literally going to fucking throw up,” jihoon mutters.

 

“if they’re parents then what the fuck am i? the grandpa?” jisung says at the same time.

 

“what’s going on here? is the thing finally happening?” daniel says, finally appearing in front of them, sweat dripping down his face.

 

he gestures towards seongwoo and minhyun, eyes wide.

 

“is what finally happening?” seongwoo says, at the same time the rest chorus a “ _nope_ , _don’t think so?”_

 

“think it’s just them being them,” guanlin sighs. “sad, really.”

 

“who’s being who?” minhyun asks.

 

“i’m about to lose my mind,” jihoon tuts. “i don’t know how many more years i can deal with this. and like. they’ve been dealing with this, since, like, _forever.”_

 

“okay, if no one is going to say anything then i refuse to buy you all meat like i was going to,” seongwoo huffs, because he’s seongwoo, and seongwoo’s overdramatic.

 

“it’s nothing, hyung,” woojin sighs, waving it off.

 

“you were going to buy us meat?” daniel pipes up, excitedly, at the same time.

 

“ugh, fine,” seongwoo says, throwing his arms up dramatically. “because i’m so nice, and since you all did such a _great job —_ nice b-boying by the way mr. kang dan— _minhyun_ will be treating all of us out to meat!”  


 

they cheer, and minhyun’s eyes widen. “what the fuck, no i’m not?”

 

“no take backsies, hyung,” guanlin says, and jisung nods along seriously.

 

“i’ll go get the car,” jisung says, and waves before plunging himself deep into the crowd.

 

“i never even said i was going to? _seongwoo_ said he was going to buy you guys meat.”

 

“honestly, all i heard was minhyun was going to treat us all to meat, so….” daniel trails off.

 

a chorus of agreements sounds throughout the group and minhyun pinches seongwoo’s arm. seongwoo yelps, but the smug grin on his face remains.

 

“you’re literally going to make me broke, ong seongwoo.”

 

“i’ll buy you ice cream before we get home,” seongwoo compromises, looking at minhyun through his lashes.

 

it no way equates to feeding seven people meat, but minhyun just sighs and says, “better have a shit ton of marshmallows.”

 

no one says anything about his red ears.

 

“i’m going to literally throw up,” jihoon repeats. “is this allowed? like is this even allowed?”

 

⤀

 

_(maybe it’s worth it when you love someone this much.)_

 

seongwoo confesses when they’re both laying down in their living room listening to music.

 

it’s a quiet night, and they had marathoned all the harry potter movies all day, because _finally,_ after fifteen years of knowing minhyun, he had convinced him to watch the harry potter movies after seongwoo had off-handedly called him a slytherin.

 

“i don’t know what that means but i’m offended,” is what minhyun says that saturday morning over breakfast, and seongwoo rolls his eyes.

 

“ _every_ house is okay, hwangcheongie,” he argues. “and besides, you would _know_ that if you just read the books.”

 

“fine.”

 

“fine?”

 

“ _fine,_ i’ll watch the movies. because i don’t have time to read the books and also, i want to watch a movie right now.”

 

“ _seriously_?”

 

minhyun had always refused to watch harry potter, mainly because it was long and he had always said there was no time, then when the movies took off he had said it had become overrated, and then at some point minhyun had just refused simply because seongwoo wanted him to watch it _so bad._

 

“do you want me to take it back?” 

 

but seongwoo’s already sliding in the DVD, preparing the pillows on the couch, and he turns to look at minhyun who’s still sitting at the dining table, munching on his pancakes.

 

“what are you doing? come on, it’s starting already,” seongwoo had whined.

 

so watch they did, through all the movies, over five bowls of popcorn. after, they had been so exhausted -- their brains completely fried by the influx of wizard information that they had just laid there, side by side, staring at their ceiling as indie music played quietly through their speakers.

 

and then seongwoo just said it. 

 

“i’m in love with you,” he says plainly, a fact.

 

minhyun’s head lifts, and he turns to look at seongwoo quietly, eyes wide. he shifts his body uncomfortably before he stays frozen.

 

seongwoo sees it from the corner of his eyes, but he continues to look at the ceiling knowing full well minhyun is staring, and shrugs.

 

“don’t know how long it’s been,” he inhales. laughs a bit. “but i am! surprise."

 

"or maybe," exhales. "it's not.”

 

minhyun doesn’t say anything.

 

“thought i would be okay with this,” seongwoo confesses, quietly. “friendship. i’ve gone fifteen years with it. thought i could live through it. what’s forever more?” a laugh. “but, but i thought maybe, if there’s a small, tiny, miniscule, chance that i could have more. _more with you,_ i wanted it.”

 

and maybe seongwoo had a little bit of hope, hope that minhyun would suddenly lean forward and kiss him, or maybe wax poetics about how much he loves seongwoo too, or maybe hold his hand, and squeeze it, and he'll just _know._ maybe he had that little bit of hope. 

 

but for the most part he’s not really expecting anything. he just wants minhyun to know.

 

he tells minhyun exactly that.

 

“but if that’s all you want — friendship. i’m fine with that, too. you don’t have to say anything, actually,” he continues. he doesn’t know if it’s insecurity talking. “um. i just wanted you to know, i guess. or. yeah. yeah.”

 

and minhyun doesn't. doesn’t say anything.

 

“okay,” is all minhyun says, and he lowers his head again to stare at the ceiling.

 

it hurts less than seongwoo thought it would. instead, it feels like something he hadn’t experienced in awhile.

 

the ropes loosen.

 

⤀

 

_(love fucks you over and sometimes you’re not meant to be. maybe we’re just not meant to be.)_

 

it’s not until the week after does it hurt.

 

and _god,_ does it hurt. it hurts so bad that seongwoo thinks he might not be able to breathe anymore.

 

“i got an internship. in japan,” is what minhyun blurts out, and seongwoo’s heart stops.

 

“um,” seongwoo says.

 

it’s three a.m, and he was in the middle of cramming a paper before he got tired and got up to make himself some coffee.

 

instead, when he walks into their kitchen, hand under his shirt scratching his stomach, he sees minhyun there with his head on the table.

 

they haven’t talked much in the days after seongwoo had told him.

 

when he sees seongwoo looking at him in surprise, he smiles weakly.

 

“i, um, got an internship in japan,” minhyun repeats. “it’s the, uh, it’s the last thing i need for my major.”

 

seongwoo’s heart drops. he shifts his feet uncomfortably.

 

“oh,” seongwoo says. “that’s. um. great! congrats? i, uh, didn’t know you were applying for one overseas.”

 

minhyun fingers tap nervously on the table. “yeah, i. um. just found out. that i got in.”

 

when it’s clear seongwoo’s not going to say anything, minhyun continues.

 

“it’s going to be, uh, for the next two quarters. so. uh. i don’t get back until graduation,” minhyun continues. his throat is dry.

 

“oh. that’s,” seongwoo starts. “that’s in nine months.”

 

minhyun nods slowly, and he looks at his hands, the clock on their oven, the corner of the table — anywhere but seongwoo.

 

“seongwoo, i—“

 

“when do you leave?”

 

there’s a look on minhyun’s face, a sad, regretful, one, and seongwoo is scared to hear the answer.

 

“as soon as this quarter ends,” minhyun says, defeatedly, and his shoulders slump. “i have to go a bit early to sort out housing, and just, get settled in.”

 

seongwoo’s feet stay glued near the door.

 

_exams are next week. the quarter ends next week._

 

_minhyun leaves next week. minhyun leaves next week. minhyun leaves next week._

 

_"i’m. i’m sorry for telling you so late.”_

 

“oh,” is all he says.

 

“i’m _sorry,”_ is what minhyun says in return, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

 

 

 

⤀

 

seongwoo rarely ever gets shit-faced drunk. he doesn’t particularly like the feeling, and he doesn’t need it anyway to have fun.

 

being shit-faced drunk is reserved for when it hurts.

 

so that's why he’s sitting in _serendipity_ at five in the afternoon, alone, face red, completely, _shit-faced drunk,_ an empty glass in his hand.

 

because it hurts.

 

“'nother one,” he calls out to minki, who’s wiping glasses a few feet away.

 

“please,” he adds as an afterthought.

 

_serendipity_ is relatively empty — it’s a wednesday afternoon, and the night crowd hasn’t started trickling in yet. the only ones in the bar besides him and minki are a middle-aged couple sitting at a table looking completely out of place, and a guy with headphones and computer inserted into a booth, typing furiously. a beer sits next to his computer.

 

minki turns to look at seongwoo, and sighs.

 

“think it’s time to cut you off,” minki suggests, and seongwoo glares at him.

 

“aren’t you jus’ a bartender,” seongwoo slurs. he nudges the glass forward. “your job is to just give me my fuckin’ drinks.”

 

“hey, i’d like to think we’re friends, too,” minki interjects. “that kind of hurts.”

 

“sorry,” seongwoo says, because he is, and maybe that was too mean, and he puts his hand up to his face. warm.

 

“ _seongwoo_ ,” minki says softly, but he goes over to fill seongwoo’s glass anyway. “you’ve been here almost every night for the past month. every week you keep showing up earlier and earlier.”

 

“s’lonely at home,” he says sadly, and he hates it. he hates admitting it. “too quiet. don’t like it.”

 

“have you kept in touch with minhyun?” minki asks, but he thinks he knows the answer — most of their friends know things haven’t been the same for awhile now.

 

no one really knows why.

 

seongwoo shakes his head.

 

“minhyun. m-minhyun. minhyunnie’s in japan," seongwoo manages to mumble out, and he raises his glass to take a gulp of whatever minki has poured.

 

he hisses. the vodka burns.

 

“i know,” minki says softly. “you should contact him, seongwoo-ah. ask him how he’s been.”

 

seongwoo shakes his head furiously. “minhyunnie doesn’t want to talk to me.”

 

“i’m sure that’s not true. i know he misses you.”

 

seongwoo laughs. and he laughs. because the idea of minhyun missing him sounds so ridiculous.

 

“he doesn’t,” he argues. “if he did, he wouldn’t ‘ave fucking told me _a week_ before he left that he was leaving. wouldn’t ‘ave left so quickly.”

 

seongwoo takes another gulp and he feels tears welling up in his eyes.

 

“would’ve tried texting me by now,” he adds, slumping in his chair.

 

he hates how minki is looking at him. he hates the pity he sees in minki’s eyes.

 

“maybe it was what i said. maybe i shouldn’t have said anything,” seongwoo says, distraught. “fucked it up. was so fucking stupid.”

 

“seongwoo,” minki says, and he looks like he’s contemplating something. like he wants to ask something but is too scared to.

 

“what happened between you two?” minki asks, carefully, and seongwoo almost wants to laugh at the question.

 

he shakes his head.

 

“he doesn’t love me, minki.”

 

seongwoo actually laughs this time. 

 

“i’m a fool.”

 

because he _is,_ how could he have fucked up so bad? and maybe it was better if he had never said anything, and maybe minhyun wouldn’t have left, and would still be here. maybe the apartment wouldn’t be so _empty,_ so _quiet,_ and he wouldn’t be constantly left with his thoughts all the time. 

 

maybe if he didn’t say anything he wouldn’t be avoiding home, because home doesn’t really feel like home anymore. and maybe there wouldn’t be such a big, empty, hole in his life, and an even bigger hole in his heart.

 

“no, i’m sure he does,” minki consoles. “you guys have known each other far too long. this is just a bump in the road.”

 

“he doesn’t love me,” seongwoo repeats, his voice small. “not the way i love him.”

 

“not the way that i’m in love with him,” he corrects himself.

 

the words tumble out, like a wave crashing into the sea, and minki’s face morphs into one of sadness, empathy, and understanding.

 

and minki doesn’t have to say anything — knows that nothing he says will help the ache in seongwoo’s chest, so instead he pours him another drink.

 

seongwoo thinks about minhyun. thinks about where he is right now. _is he still at work? is he eating dinner now?_ thinks about if he’s adjusting well — minhyun had always been good at japanese so at least he doesn’t have to worry about if he has to talk to anyone.

 

seongwoo wonders about how minhyun had always dreamt of staying in japan for a bit. _is he enjoying it as much as he thought he would? is he overworking himself? does he think about seongwoo as much as seongwoo thinks about him? almost calls seongwoo at 3 a.m when he misses him, and can’t sleep — just like seongwoo does?_

 

 

minki calls jisung to pick up seongwoo two drinks later, when seongwoo resolves to laying his head on the table and staring blankly at nothing.

 

⤀

 

guanlin moves into minhyun’s empty room sometime when the flowers start blooming again.

 

guanlin lives in a single room dorm, and he asks seongwoo one day if he can stay in the empty room because sometimes the single dorm gets lonely.

 

seongwoo says _yes, of course,_ because he hates the quiet, and even though guanlin’s not the most talkative person, he’s tired of coming home to an empty apartment.

 

he knows all his friends have been in touch with minhyun, because guanlin mentions something about how minhyun also said it was okay for him to say in his room, and woojin says something about how minhyun has been working so much, and he wonders if he should’ve texted minhyun first.

 

but he thinks it’s too late, and he thinks about how minhyun hasn’t tried to contact him either, so maybe minhyun doesn’t really want to talk to him.

 

he knows that his friends are worried about him, and that guanlin really just moved in because his friends don’t want to leave him alone — want to make sure he’s okay, but he’s grateful that guanlin comes up with an excuse anyway.

 

he helps guanlin move stuff in, helps put aside most of minhyun’s stuff in the corner of the room.

 

at some point his hands linger on a forgotten picture strip he finds behind minhyun’s desk, one of him and minhyun from two years ago.

 

there was a photobooth at the cinema that had put animal filters over their face, and they had decided to just do it for the shits and giggles. they’re doing weird poses in some, and smiling in the rest, and they look so happy. the pictures are blurred for the most part — seongwoo remembers it so vividly, teasing each other, tickling each other and not really caring how the pictures turn out.

 

“hyung?” guanlin calls, walking into the room with another box of clothes. his eyes look towards the picture in his hand, before he quickly looks back up at seongwoo’s face. “you okay?”

 

“um, yeah. yeah. i’m good,” seongwoo pockets the picture quickly and smiles at guanlin. “jesus christ, how many boxes of clothes do you fucking have?”  


 

guanlin grins. “how do you feel about sharing your closet, too?”

 

“unless you’re planning to share all your clothes, then over my dead body lai guanlin,” seongwoo quips, and guanlin laughs.

 

guanlin is not the loudest person in their friend group, more mellow than the rest, but he fills the quietness in the apartment. he eats dinner with seongwoo, and brings seongwoo out of his room when it’s been quiet in the apartment for too long, and let’s them watch dr. strange as many times as seongwoo wants.

 

(guanlin does end up sharing his clothes.

 

seongwoo is starting to feel okay again.)

 

⤀

 

one night, when seongwoo is drunk and sad, but mostly sad, he texts him.

 

 

**_ongcheongie  
_** _i miss you so fucking much_

 

**_ongcheongie  
_** _do you miss me like i miss you_

 

**_ongcheongie  
_** _im sorry i said anything_

 

**_ongcheongie  
_** _im sorry i ruined us_

 

 

**_hwangcheongie  
_** _seongwoo_

 

**_hwangcheongie  
_** _i miss you_

 

**_hwangcheongie  
_** _so fucking much_

 

**_hwangcheongie  
_** _i’m sorry._

 

**_hwangcheongie  
_** _you didn’t ruin us_

 

**_hwangcheongie_ **  
_i was the one who fucked up_

 

**_hwangcheongie  
_** _i’m so sorry_

 

 

it doesn’t do anything to help his heart like he thought it would.

 

he didn’t know it was possible, but it hurts even more.

 

 

 

⤀

 

 

his friends are tiptoeing around him.

 

he realises it when they’re all eating lunch in the cafeteria, and they’re all talking animatedly.

 

something about some new nintendo switch game coming out, and guanlin says something along the lines of asking minhyun to buy it for him in japan since it’s cheaper there.

 

jisung is halfway through scolding guanlin, saying something along the lines of _“you know minhyun is really busy right now, and he’s super tired, it wouldn’t be the best idea to have him go out of his way to go and get it, would i-“_ when he abruptly stops, and they all look at seongwoo nervously to gauge his reaction.

 

he’s swirling his french fries in his ketchup, and he looks up when jisung stops in the middle of his sentence.

 

“what’s wrong?” he asks.

 

“nothing,” jisung reassures, and woojin nods.

 

“yeah. nothing hyung,” he echoes.

 

“minhyun is tired lately?” he asks, because he can’t help it.

 

“sorry for bringing him up,” guanlin says apologetically, and he shoves his chicken strip in his mouth quickly, looking down at his plate.

 

“no, no. what? no, you guys can talk about him in front of me?”

 

when they all look at him in surprise, he rolls his eyes. “have you guys really tried to avoid talking about him in front of me?”

 

the guilty look on daniel’s face is telling.

 

“you guys,” he whines. “i’m better now.”

 

when they all look at him with a raised eyebrow, he scoffs.

 

“i am,” he insists. “i am. i’m better.”

 

“you guys are both still messes if you ask me,” jihoon muses, and woojin kicks him under the table.

 

“ _ow,”_ jihoon hisses and shoots woojin a look.

 

woojin just rolls his eyes.

 

“is,” seongwoo starts. “is minhyun okay?”

 

he doesn’t miss the look that they all share before jisung responds.

 

“seongwoo,” jisung hesitates, “i think you should talk to minhyun. really.”

 

he shakes his head. they don’t understand.

 

“he’s a mess, too,” daniel chimes in. “he barely makes time to eat, and is overworking himself when he really doesn’t need to.”

 

seongwoo’s chest feels like it’s getting punched at the thought of minhyun not taking care of himself. he feels heavy.

 

“he won’t tell us either, what happened between you guys,” daniel continues. “but what we see is that you guys are both unhappy, and we really think you guys just need to talk to each other.”

 

“please,” jihoon adds. “we don’t like seeing you guys this way. you guys both deserve to be happy.”

 

seongwoo’s hand grips the phone in his hand tighter.

 

maybe, maybe.

 

 

⤀

 

it’s minhyun who calls him first.

 

“hello?” he says into the receiver, and he sounds unsure.

 

it’s two a.m. when minhyun calls, and he’s not sure if his mind is tricking him when the name pops up onto his phone.

 

“um,” the voice crackles into his ear, and he almost melts. “i’m sorry, were you sleeping?”

 

seongwoo shakes his head, and it takes him awhile before he realises minhyun can’t see him.

 

“no,” he says into his phone. “i, uh, i don’t sleep a lot lately.”

 

“me either,” minhyun admits and he lets out a breath.

 

seongwoo fiddles with the blanket in his lap.

 

“i, uh, i heard from jisung and them,” he responds. “that you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

 

“yeah, i’ve been working a lot lately, it’s been really busy.”

 

“oh, okay,” seongwoo says, because he doesn’t know what to say to that. “well, please make sure to eat, and sleep, okay? and, uh. don’t overwork yourself. please.”

 

minhyun laughs a little, but it’s a lifeless one, sad. “okay, seongwoo. i promise.”

 

“okay, good,” seongwoo exhales. “you have to stay healthy, okay. and i know you tend to volunteer yourself for more work than you can handle. so, just. just know your limits, okay?”

 

minhyun laughs again.

 

“it’s usually me who nags you to take care of yourself,” minhyun comments, and as if he realises what he said, he stops.

 

the line goes quiet again, and they both listen to each other’s breathing for awhile.

 

“i miss you,” is what minhyun says. “and i’m sorry."

 

“yeah,” seongwoo confesses. “yeah, me too.”

 

“seongwoo,” minhyun says, quietly, but there’s a hint of desperation in his voice.

 

“yeah?”

 

“you have to understand. that i did it for a reason. but i fucked up and i know that now. i’m sorry.”

 

seongwoo wants to almost cry. to laugh. he’s not sure which.

 

“which part?”

 

“seongwoo,” he hesitates, softly. “i love you, too. i love you so much.”

 

“minhyun, please,” seongwoo pleads.

 

“i—i didn’t tell you the first time, but i should’ve, _god,_ i should’ve,” minhyun says, frustrated. it all comes tumbling out. “i fucked up. when you told me you loved me, that you were in love with me. i should’ve said something. should’ve said i love you, too. should’ve said that i was in love, too. that it’s been awhile since i’ve loved you too. agreed with it all. kissed you. done, _something_.”

 

“ _minhyun,”_ seongwoo says, because it hurts, and the wall he built the past couple months to protect himself from hurting again is crashing down, and he still, he _still_ wants minhyun so bad.

 

“i had already applied for the internship,” minhyun continues. “i had already passed three rounds of interviews, knew the last one was coming. knew that if i got in i would be gone for awhile. i didn’t— i didn’t want to kiss you, and give you hope, just, to leave. didn’t want to just leave you for _so long_.”

 

“why are you doing this?”  


 

seongwoo feels like he could burst into tears any minute. he feels like a boat nearing a waterfall, and that anytime soon he was going to tip over.

 

“maybe, maybe it’s because i knew that if i did, if i had kissed you — had just told you that i loved you too, and let myself, just, _just have that,_ i wouldn’t leave,” minhyun’s voice cracks, and seongwoo wants to so bad just be with him. 

 

he hears minhyun sniffle. he wants to hug him. kiss him, wipe away any tears minhyun has, even if he too, is crying.

 

“why are you doing this?” seongwoo repeats.

 

“i wouldn’t _leave_ , i knew that. i thought it would be easier to just, _just_ pretend like i didn’t love you. but i couldn’t. i couldn’t bring myself to tell you i didn’t love you too, because i did, god i did—i _do._ so the only thing i said was okay,” he confesses.

“ _okay,”_ he repeats, scoffing. “i’m so fucking stupid. god.”

 

seongwoo slumps in his bed. it hurts everywhere, and he doesn’t know how to process the information. _minhyun loves him. minhyun loves him._ but it also hurts. it hurts so bad, it had— _has_ hurt for so long, and he’s so tired. he’s so tired of hurting, of hating himself for hurting, of crying, of missing someone.

 

“why, now?” he asks, quietly. “why are you telling me this now?”

 

“i was stuck between worrying that if i contacted you, you would be mad at me for still trying to be around you. even after i had just said _okay,_ even if i had just left so abruptly without telling you. i thought, maybe, _maybe,_ if i had just distanced myself for a little while, didn’t try to contact you, it wouldn’t be so hard — for the both of us.”

 

“but, it’s been _so_ _hard_ ,” minhyun’s voice wavers, “i’ve missed you so much. i couldn’t do it. i can’t do it anymore. i’m so tired. of missing you. i thought it would be so much harder if i had told you. i thought. i _thought_ , if i didn’t say anything it would be so much easier. but it’s _not._ and i miss you so much. i’m so sorry. _god,_ i’m so fucking sorry. seongwoo, i’m sorry. i love you.”

 

exhale.

 

“me too,” seongwoo says. pauses. “minhyun-ah. you hurt me _so bad_.”

 

because _minhyun loves him,_ but minhyun also hurt him, so much that it almost destroyed him, and he needs minhyun to know that. needs minhyun to know that it hurt, and it was hard, and he’s still trying to repair the pieces.

 

“i know,” minhyun says, and he laughs at how ridiculous he feels. “i’m, _god,_ i could say sorry a million times and i still don’t feel that’s sufficient. but i’m willing to. willing to say sorry a million times.”

 

the line goes quiet again.

 

“minhyun-ah,” he says again.

 

“yeah?”

 

“i love you so much.”

 

minhyun exhales.

 

“i love you too, seongwoo. more than there are stars in the galaxy.”

 

⤀

 

_(i love him. i love him. i love him.)_

 

_“seongwoo,”_ minhyun says in surprise when he opens the door.

 

seongwoo is drenched —it was raining in tokyo all day, and it didn’t occur to him to check the weather before he abruptly left seoul. 

 

he has nothing but a light jacket, _it’s supposed to be spring,_ and a backpack on, and he looks at minhyun with determination, and oh. 

 

_oh._ he hasn’t seen minhyun in over six months, and oh.

 

nothing much has changed in minhyun’s features, but the piercing on his ears have closed, and his jaw is more defined. he’s thinner too, and the circles under his eyes are darker. his hair is still as soft as ever, his skin still as clear as ever. he’s wearing an oversized t-shirt with pajama bottoms and thin-wired glasses sit on his nose, but he’s still beautiful, still radiant, and _oh._

 

“what are you doing here? when did you fly here?” minhyun asks, shocked and confused at what seongwoo is doing on his doorstep days later. he looks at seongwoo up and down, as if he can’t believe seongwoo’s really standing in front of him.

 

“did you,” seongwoo stops, swallowing. “do you really mean it? what you said on the phone?”

 

minhyun looks shocked, and taken aback.

 

“did you come all the way here to ask me that? seongwoo, you’re _drenched_ , you need to come in first we need to get you war—“

 

“ _minhyun,”_ he pleads, and something in his voice makes minhyun’s fussing stop and look, _really_ _look_ , at seongwoo. “i need to know.”

 

his fingers itch to grab at minhyun. to hug him, to kiss him, to just _touch him,_ because he’s missed him so much, and he still wants minhyun so bad, and he’s _right_ _there_. finally right there, in front of him, but he wills his whole self to stay firmly in place.

  

minhyun looks at him again, searches his eyes slowly before he nods. seongwoo feels naked, vulnerable.

 

“of course. yeah. _yes._ ”

 

and seongwoo is leaning forward and kissing him. cupping minhyun’s face and pushing forward, and kissing him.  
  
minhyun freezes in surprise at first, and time stills for a second. but seongwoo’s eyes are shut, and he’s missed this feeling, this _warmth_ , and then minhyun’s pushing forward too, and kissing him back, pulling seongwoo closer, closer, closer.  
  
it almost hurts at first, and minhyun’s teeth knocks against seongwoo’s lips, and it’s messy, and desperate — they’re both desperate, pushing closer and closer to each as much as they can, as if this is the last chance they’ll ever be this close again.  
  
but then seongwoo pulls away for a breath, and minhyun is shutting the door behind him and pushing seongwoo against the door, kissing him again. and seongwoo moans, because it feels _so_ _good_ , the feeling of minhyun sliding his tongue in his mouth, pressing against the roof of his mouth.

  
seongwoo is running his hands along everywhere — along minhyun’s neck, his arms, the side of his body, — _everywhere_ , searching. they’re kissing and minhyun’s lips are forceful against his, warm, wet, messy.  
  
they kiss, kiss, kiss, until minhyun removes his tongue from seongwoo’s mouth, and seongwoo almost whines. but then minhyun’s kissing up his jaw, until he reaches seongwoo’s ears. he’s kissing and nipping at seongwoo’s warm and incredibly red ear, and seongwoo groans.  
  
“ _i love you so much,”_ minhyun says into his ear, and seongwoo wants to permanently imprint the memory into his brain.

 “yeah?” is all seongwoo can respond, because his breath is labored and minhyun’s removing himself from his ear, but then he’s bending lower to kiss along seongwoo’s neck. he feels minhyun’s tongue swipe at the smooth skin. minhyun makes a noise against seongwoo’s neck in response, and seongwoo squeaks.  


“i’m sorry,” minhyun whispers, kissing along his neck. “i’m sorry.” another kiss. “i’m sorry.”  


  
it’s everything and nothing that seongwoo expected it to be. everything he’d expected — minhyun’s is _home,_ feels like home, feels like warmth, feels like a piece of himself, feels like everything coming together. and nothing he expected it to be —because he doesn’t think he could have imagined this, thought this up, this feeling of euphoria, this feeling of happiness.

 

 

⤀

 

when does seongwoo realise it — that despite everything they had gone through, despite the years he spent being in love with minhyun and not knowing if minhyun loved him back, despite the universe never quite aligning for them to be together — that he wouldn’t trade it for the world?

 

check all that apply.

 

  1. the day minhyun comes back from japan, comes back _home,_ and seongwoo is at the airport with the rest of their friends waiting for him by the gate. they’re all arguing because they all want to be the one to hold the _WELCOME BACK, MINHYUN-SSI!!!! BUU BUU_ posters, but woojin and jihoon insist that they called dibs first. guanlin, jisung and daniel want to hold the posters too, mentioning something about how _it’s embarrassing if it looks like we showed up empty-handed,_ and _it was a team effort, i think we_ _all_ _put effort into making the poster so we should all be able to hold it up_ and seongwoo is too busy trying to get them to just stop fighting. he doesn’t hear minhyun at first, but then minhyun calls him again, and he turns and the arguing dies out and he’s there.he’s _there_ , running towards him with his suitcase in tow, the widest grin on his face, and waving his arms rapidly.  
  
“ _minhyun,”_ he says, breathlessly, and he’s running towards him too, and minhyun is here, he’s _home,_ and his eyes are so bright, just looking at him.  
  
in true minhyun fashion, minhyun stumbles and falls when he’s almost reached seongwoo. it happens so quick — one second he’s waving at seongwoo, and the next his own suitcase hits the back of his heel before he’s wincing in pain and tumbling to the ground.  
  
seongwoo is half shocked and worried, and other half so endeared, because, yes, that’s his _boyfriend,_ the love of his life, who just took a tumble in the middle of incheon airport, and he hears all their friends laughing behind him, and he just can’t believe this man is all his.  
  
“ow,” minhyun moans when seongwoo get’s closer, and seongwoo is grinning so wide his jaw hurts.  
  
“still clumsy as ever,” seongwoo teases, and minhyun sticks his tongue out as seongwoo helps him up.  
  
“i’m just happy to be here, okay,” minhyun protests, and he looks behind seongwoo to wave at their friends. they wave the poster in excitement. “i missed you guys so much.”  
  
“who’d you miss the most?” seongwoo says cheekily, and minhyun rolls his eyes at the question.  
  
minhyun pretends to think. “hmmm, woojin?”  
  
“ _hey,”_ seongwoo says, feigning hurt, and minhyun laughs. “not your beautiful, incredibly funny, incredibly talented, incredibly loving, best friend of fifteen years and boyfriend of three months?”  
  
minhyun giggles and pokes seongwoo’s cheeks. “hmmm, i _guess,_ i missed him a little.”  
  
seongwoo pouts.  
  
“a lot,” minhyun corrects, and seongwoo smiles again. “so much.”  
  
“i missed you too,” he kisses minhyun’s cheek. “so much.” his other cheek. “more than you could think.” his forehead. (minhyun can’t stop giggling.) “waited for this day for so long.” his left eyelid. “literally had a countdown on my phone.” his right eyelid. “and you’re here.” his nose.  
  
“you’re finally here,” he breathes out, and before minhyun can say anything, he’s kissing him on the lips, wrapping his arms minhyun, and minhyun is clutching his face, and pushing forward, forward, forward.  
  
minhyun deepens the kiss first, and seongwoo’s glad, because he wanted to so bad, but he wasn’t sure if it was appropriate in the middle of the airport, if minhyun would be okay with displaying some _shameless pda,_ but it’s okay, because minhyun does it first and he decides he doesn’t care anyway because minhyun is _home._  
  
the others make noises of protests behind them, and he laughs into the kiss when he hears their complaints.  
  
“literally, he hasn’t seen us in nine months and he can’t even greet us first?” jisung whines.  
  
“i literally feel betrayed. like this is an anime betrayal,” woojin whines.  
  
“gross,” is all jihoon mutters, but everyone knows no one really means it because their friends are finally together, finally happy, and everything has clicked into place.  
  
seongwoo and minhyun finally separate, only inches apart at the request of their friends, and they giggle as they touch their foreheads together.  

  2. seongwoo and minhyun tell their parents they’re dating at their graduation. they’re friends all gather, and seongwoo and minhyun manage to find them because they’re all wearing incredibly ridiculous headbands, and carrying blown up pictures of minhyun and seongwoo’s faces.  
  
jisung, jihoon, and guanlin wear ONG! SEONGWOO! headbands on their heads, while woojin, daniel, and minki have designated themselves to the HWANG! MINHYUN! headbands.  
  
they’re honestly making a ruckus in the crowd, cheering, and thrashing their poster around, so it’s not hard for seongwoo and minhyun to embarrassingly find them in the crowd of graduates, friends, and family, and hug them all.  
  
seongwoo pushes through the crowd, clutching minhyun’s hand tightly, as he makes their way towards them.  
  
“you, _guys,”_ seongwoo whines. “i’m so _touched._ absolute tears. _look_ , i’m crying.”  
  
he points at his barely wet eyes. he’s overdramatic as always, but the rest don’t care.  
  
“i’m so proud of _you_ _guys_ ,” jisung says, throwing his arms around seongwoo first, before pushing him aside to hug minhyun as well.  
  
“congratulations hyungs,” guanlin says grinning, waving their blown up head. “whoop, whoop! time to go out in the real world and get real adult jobs.”  
  
“guanlinnie, why did you have to remind us,” minhyun says sadly, but he grins anyway. “we made it, _god,_ finally. i’m going to cry. i genuinely thought university was going to be an endless loop for the rest of my life.”  
  
“if seongwoo can graduate university, i don’t think i have to worry about anything anymore,” woojin says solemnly.  
  
jihoon agrees. “if he can do it, i can too!”  
  
seongwoo protests. “brats. all of you guys! i have,” fake sob, “done so much for you guys in these past few years. and _this. this_ is the treatment that i get?”  
  
daniel laughs, his contagious laugh of his, and nods. “hyung, you had like four C’s and a D in your transcript.”  
  
“yet, here he is,” minhyun chimes in, grinning cheekily at daniel and squeezing seongwoo’s hand. “my smart man.”  
  
seongwoo is in love.  
  
jisung rolls his eyes. “coming from someone who asked me last week what the square root of nine was.”  
  
minhyun sticks his tongue out. “you guys are mean. we’re going to find our parents.”  
  
they all laugh, and they all agree that they should find their parents, but not before reminding them that they promised to go out and eat barbecue after.  
  
seongwoo and minhyun, after weaving between families and sweaty bodies, and posters, finally find their parents, who are talking between each other, and their faces both brighten as they greet their parents.  
  
“ _mom_ , _dad_ ,” seongwoo cries out, and lets go of minhyun’s hand to throw his arms around them both, as minhyun mirrors him and greets his parents as well.  
  
congratulations ensue, and seongwoo’s mom fusses more over minhyun than she does seongwoo, and seongwoo bonds with minhyun’s dad over some football game that was on the television a couple days ago. it feels so nice, so warm, and  
seongwoo is so happy.  
  
“um,” minhyun says nervously, at some point, and his handers wander to reconnect his hand with seongwoo’s. “we have something to tell you.”  
  
“oh god,” seongwoo’s dad says, raising his eyebrows. “you’re not going to tell me something like that you haven’t _actually_ graduated, are you?”  
  
seongwoo laughs and they both shake their head.  
  
“no, _no_ , nothing like that. we just,” seongwoo says, and he doesn’t quite know why he’s so nervous. seongwoo and minhyun’s family have been as close as seongwoo and minhyun have been, all these years. “um. i’m in love with minhyun. and. he’s in love with me too. well, like, _hopefully,_ that’s what he says at least.”  
  
minhyun shoves him a little and giggles. “i _am._ you’re so dumb. _”_  
  
“and we’re um. we’re together,” seongwoo explains, raising their intertwined fingers. “we’re dating.”  
  
minhyun nods, and looks between them nervously. “surprise?”  
  
their parents stare at them for a little while before they sigh.  
  
“surprise? what is this,” minhyun’s mom says to seongwoo’s mom.  
  
seongwoo’s mom laughs in responds. “is this all you wanted to say?”  
  
they look at seongwoo and minhyun expectantly, and in return they look at their parents in surprise.  
  
“you guys aren’t surprised?”  
  
“no,” seongwoo’s dad says slowly.  
  
“you’re okay with it?”  
  
“yes?” minhyun’s dad replies.  
  
“like, we’re dating."  
  
“uh-huh.”  
  
“in love.”  
  
“we know.”  
  
“you know?”  
  
“seongwoo-ah,” seongwoo’s mom chuckles, “you guys have been with each other for so long.”  
  
“it was only a matter of time,” minhyun’s mom adds.  
  
“you guys _knew_?” minhyun says incredulously.  
  
a sigh. “you’re our sons. we know you like the back of our hand. we always knew you guys were it for each other.”  
  
“oh,” because it makes sense and that’s all seongwoo knows what to say.  
  
“oh,” minhyun says too, and they both feel kind of dumb for freaking out about it. they had practiced what they were going to say all night.  

  3. seongwoo and minhyun are laying down on a blanket at the rooftop of their apartment’s building, staring at the stars. they talk of going to see the aurora one day — a dream of minhyun’s, of traveling and seeing the world together — a dream of seongwoo’s, of anything, and everything they want to do in life.  
  
“me and you against the world,” is what minhyun murmurs, head nestled into the crook of seongwoo’s neck.  
  
“always have, always will be,” seongwoo agrees.
  4. they’re cooking dinner together. _together,_ because over the years they’ve gotten better at cooking as long as they other is there.  
  
minhyun is humming while he’s stirring the chicken around in the pot, and seongwoo is chopping up onions next to him.  
  
_nell_ is playing quietly over their speaker.  
  
the oil pops, and minhyun yelps a bit in surprise. seongwoo giggles and nudges him with his waist.  
  
“don’t set our house on fire,” he teases and minhyun looks at him, spatula in hand, arms crossed.  
  
“do i need to remind you who _actually_ almost caught our apartment on fire?”  
  
“from what i remember, it was _you,_ who pushed me? and almost got me killed? thank you for that?”  
  
minhyun blows him a kiss. “you’re memory is skewed, and that is definitely not what happened but you’re cute, and i love you, so i’ll let it slide.”  
  
seongwoo throws a piece of a chopped onion at him and rolls his eyes. “gross.”  
  
“only for you,” minhyun responds without missing a beat.  
  
it’s deja vu.  
  
  
  
except it’s not.  
  
because then minhyun is blurting out, “marry me,” and seongwoo almost misses it because he thinks he’s misheard.  
  
“what?” seongwoo turns to minhyun, eyes wide, because did he just say what he thought he heard?  
  
and minhyun is grinning, and smiling at seven p.m at night, in their _kitchen,_ while making _stir_ _fry_ , and saying, it again “ _marry me,”_ and it sounds so beautiful coming from minhyun.  
  
“are you joking, because this is really mean if you’re joking minhyun,” seongwoo’s voice cracks, but he can’t stop smiling.  
  
but then minhyun is getting down on one knee, and fumbling in his pocket before he’s taking out a red _box,_ and taking out a ring, and seongwoo’s tears are welling up, and seongwoo is saying, _yes, of course, god, yes,_ and pulling minhyun back up to kiss him before minhyun can get even another word in, and they’re laughing and falling into each other, like they always do.  
  
and it’s the easiest _yes_ of his life, because it’s always _yes_ when it comes to minhyun. _yes,_ because _finally_ the timing is right, and _finally_ , things have clicked into place for them, and here’s his best friend of forever, the love of his life, asking to have a forever with him.  
  
  
  
  
“i’ve been bringing the ring everywhere with me for months,” minhyun admits that night, when they’re laying on the couch, mindless watching tv. “been trying to propose for months. and then it just came out. it was supposed to be a full blown thing!”  
  
minhyun’s tracing patterns over seongwoo’s stomach.  
  
“s’okay,” seongwoo giggles. “like it better this way, anyway. it’s us.”  
  
because it is. it’s them — unexpected, low-key, simple, and full of love.  
  
  
  
(seongwoo checks all.)  
  
  
  
⤀

  
  
  
_(sometimes, love takes time. it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t right.)_  
  
  





**Author's Note:**

> ahh, that's a wrap!
> 
> i hope you guys enjoyed, i'm really, really, _super nervous_ posting this fic. it's my first long fic, ever, and also my first fic after i've gone MIA for over six months. OTL i'm shaking writing this...
> 
> thank u for taking the time to read, i'm sorry i was gone for so long
> 
> come talk to me: [twitter](https://twitter.com/guaniinist)!


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